Quote by Samuel Taylor Coleridge: “Water, water, everywhere, And all the boards di...” We’d love your help. Let us know what’s wrong with this preview of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge. The Rime of the Ancient Mariner - Literature reference section from FT Exploring The story seemed pretty scary to me when I first read it in eigth grade. It was published in 1798 when Coleridge was 25 years old. The Basic Plot: With strange mysterious power, an ancient mariner (old sailer) compels some poor guy (the Wedding Guest) on his way to a fun wedding party to sit and listen to an incredible story about a horrifying sailing voyage. The wedding guest is unhappy about missing the fun party, but the mariner's "glittering eye" overpowers him and he sits mesmerized, listening to the whole creepy tale. The mariner tells of a nightmarish voyage. While rounding the "horn" in the Antarctic Ocean, the mariner's ship is surrounded by dangerous ice bergs. Things look bleak until a beautiful albatross flies in for a visit. The sailors feed it and the ice splits open.

The albatross stays a while and seems to be leading the ship out of trouble, when for no good reason, the mariner kills it with a bolt from his trusty crossbow. I've known a few guys like that. At first the mariner's shipmates shun him for this crime against nature. They hang the albatross about the mariner's neck. (This is where the expression, "an albatross around his neck" comes from). But then, as the good breeze and good weather continue, the crew decide killing the bird must have been a good thing. Now the trouble really begins. No wind, no water, much suffering, until all the crew but the mariner drop dead. For seven days the bodies lay there staring at the poor mariner who, though in agony from thirst himself, can't die. Lots more strange and wondrous things happen, including the dead crew rising like zombies to sail the ship. But, as we used to say in grade school oral book reports, if you want to know the rest of the story, you'll have to read it. Or at least keep scrolling and read the excerpts below: .

born 1772 - died 1834 (62 years) Samuel Coleridge was born in the small town of Ottery St. Mary, in rural Devonshire, England. When his father died he was sent to school in Christ's Hospital in London, where he showed himself to be an unusually bright student. He suffered much in life from painful physical afflictions for which laudanum was prescribed. Laudanum was opium dissolved in alcohol. Back in those days they did not understand much about the dangers of opium and drug addiction. Poor Coleridge came to learn that "the drug was a greater evil than the diseases it did not cure"**. He became a hopeless drug addict, depressed, and had fallings out with his wife and friends, including his longtime friend William Wordsworth. It is not fair to only portray Coleridge as a drug addict. He accomplished much in life despite his problems. He is now considered to be one of the most influentual thinkers of his day in a variety of fields. John Stuart Mill said that Coleridge was one of "the two great seminal minds of England"**.

You'll have to go read Mill's writings to find out who the other great mind was.. Later in life things became better for Samuel. He reconciled with his friend Wordsworth and his wife. People came from all over the world to meet and hear him talk in his later years. When Coleridge died, Wordsworth said he was "the most wonderful man that I have ever known". Charles Lamb wrote of Coleridge, "His great and clear spirit haunts me....Never saw I his likeness, nor probably the world can see again." In the antarctic ocean they get stuck in dangerous ice until an albatross seems to come to their rescue. Then the idiot mariner (a little editorializing) shoots it with a crossbow.... The ice was here, the ice was there, The ice was all around: It cracked and growled, and roared and howled, Like noises in a swound! At length did cross an Albatross, Thorough the fog it came; As if it had been a Christian soul, We hailed it in God's name. It ate the food it ne'er had eat, And round and round it flew.

The ice did split with a thunder-fit; The helmsman steered us through! And a good south wind sprung up behind; The Albatross did follow, And every day, for food or play, Came to the mariners' hollo! A few verses later the mariner kills the albatross... "God save thee, ancient Mariner! From the fiends, that plague thee thus! Why look'st thou so?" ---With my crossbow For seven days the dead bodies stare at the mariner and don't rot. Though the mariner is in agony from thirst, he can't die. Eventually, the bodies rise without a sound, like zombies, and help him sail the ship.... The loud wind never reach the ship, Yet now the ship moved on! Beneath the lightning and the Moon The dead men gave a groan. They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose, Nor spake, nor moved their eyes; It had been strange, even in a dream, To have seen those dead men rise.

The helmsman steered, the ship moved on; Yet never never a breeze up-blew; The mariners all 'gan work the ropes, Where they were wont to do; They raised their limbs like lifeless tools--- We were a ghastly crew. The body of my brother's son Stood by me, knee to knee: The body and I pulled at one rope, But he said nought to me. Top of Page Finally, after many more strange and wondrous events, the mariner makes it home. But now he is cursed to roam around from place to place telling his woeful tale and the lessons learned. He knows the person to whom he must tell the tale as soon as he sees their face. As the Wedding Guest learned, they "cannot choose but hear".... Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched Which forced me to begin my tale; And then it left me free. Since then, at an uncertain hour, That agony returns: And till my ghastly tale is told, This heart within me burns.

I pass, like night, from land to land; I have strange power of speech; That moment that his face I see, I know the man that must hear me: To him my tale I teach. Top of Page Finally, the mariner sums it all up in some of the most beautiful, famous, and oft quoted lines in the poem.... O Wedding Guest! this soul hath been Alone on a wide wide sea: So lonely 'twas, that God himself Scarce seem-ed there to be. (skipping a few lines) Farewell, farewell! but this I tell To thee, thou Wedding Guest! He prayeth well, who loveth well Both man and bird and beast. He prayeth best, who loveth best All things both great and small; For the dear God who loveth us, He made and loveth all. The Mariner, whose eye is bright, Whose beard with age is hoar, Is gone: and now the Wedding Guest Turned from the bridegroom's door. He went like one that hath been stunned, And is of sense forlorn: A sadder and a wiser man, He rose the morrow morn.

Water, Water, Everywhere, Nor Any Drop to Drink" Photo Credit: Pine Journal Article courtesy of Kim Samuelson | Feb 27, 2016 | Pine Journal | Shared as educational material We’ve all heard the saying, “Water, water, everywhere, nor any drop to drink.” With droughts, floods and water pollution consistently making headlines, this line from English poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge’s “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner” is something that many around the country and even the world are probably thinking lately. Did you know that about 71 percent of the Earth’s surface is water covered? However, the oceans hold about 96.5 percent of that water as salt water and not potable water (water safe enough for drinking and preparing food). That leaves 3.5 percent of water as fresh, potable water. And of that, about 69 percent is frozen in glaciers and polar ice caps. So that leaves about 1.6 percent of all the water on earth as fresh, potable water. That’s not much. The average person needs at least 3/4 gallon of fresh water to drink each day.

Add to that the amount needed for cooking, bathing and cleaning and what is needed by plants and animals. That adds up to a lot of potable water. Is it any wonder that water is the most important natural resource? Some people, in states like Texas and California, have been living under drought conditions for years. They have billions of gallons, literally in their backyards, in the oceans, but it’s not potable water usable for people, animals or agriculture. Soon, people may have to move from some communities because there is just no potable water left. And sometimes the potable water is contaminated and can’t be used for human or animal use. Here are some of the most notable recent stories. In August 2015, the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) accidentally released about 1 million gallons of contaminated water into Colorado’s Animas River from the Gold King Mine near Silverton. The EPA immediately warned people and communities to shut off water intakes and not to swim or fish in the river or use the water for drinking, bathing, animals or agriculture. Shocked and saddened people gathered along the river to watch the blue water turn to thick orange and yellow sludge water loaded with heavy metals.

Many people lost their water supply from this accident. In April 2010, the Deepwater Horizon (BP) oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico released about 210 million gallons of oil into the gulf waters. It is considered the largest accidental marine oil spill in history. BP paid $18.7 billion in fines, but that money will never bring back the billions of fish, dolphins, birds, and other marine life and wildlife that were killed. It won’t reimburse the thousands of people who lost their jobs, their livelihoods, due to closures of fishing and tourism, etc. That accident was almost six years ago and oil sludge yet continues to wash up on beaches from Florida to Louisiana. Even recently, the world learned about the people in Flint, Mich., who have elevated lead levels in their bodies. Lead poisoning causes irreversible and untreatable harm, especially in children who are most affected. Where did the lead come from? Awhile back, the city of Flint made a decision to save money by getting their water from the Flint River instead of the Detroit water system which draws from Lake Huron.

However, Flint River water is much more corrosive, and this water (which was not treated to reduce the corrosiveness) ended up corroding the city’s lead pipes in their water distribution system. This lead-contaminated water was then used by innocent residents for drinking, cooking and bathing, and now Flint’s children will forever pay the price. Almost every week brings reports of contaminated water from oil and gas drilling, from hardrock mining, from sewage overflows, from accidents releasing toxic contaminants. In fact, the EPA estimates there are about 3,500 chemical spills each year alone. And these all, in one way or another, affect the nation’s water resources. On top of these new pollution stories, there are 1,322 Superfund sites in the U.S., “polluted locations requiring a long-term response to clean up hazardous material contaminations,” according to the EPA. Every state in the U.S. has at least one Superfund site with most having 10 or more. Minnesota is about in the middle with more than 20 sites, including the old Stryker Bay and U.S. Steel mill sites on the St. Louis River in Duluth.

Until they are totally cleaned, each of these Superfund sites continue to release contaminants into the surface and/or groundwater. Residents of the Northland are blessed to have good, safe water, but it is only one accident away from being unsafe for use. And that accident doesn’t even need to be in the immediate area as contaminants in a river or lake or groundwater system can affect people hundreds of miles away. It is so much easier to take offensive measures to protect water quality and prevent accidents and pollution than it is to spend millions of dollars and hours to clean up contaminated water. BACK TO THE BEGINNING So, let’s go back to the beginning a little and discover … where does water come from? And what can people do to protect water quality? Everyone knows that water comes from the rain, the snow and the water faucet. But, seriously, water comes from somewhere and goes somewhere … and that is part of the hydrologic cycle. From the formation of the Earth to the present day, water has been endlessly circulating through the hydrologic cycle. Water evaporates, forms clouds, and returns to earth as precipitation (rain, sleet, snow, hail, fog, etc.), and then it moves on or through the Earth and cycles again.

Water is constantly moving, but it doesn’t always move in the same channels or the same locations. Water evaporating from a pond may fall as rain hundreds of miles away. The amount of water in one location may change (as in periods of drought or flooding), but the amount of water across the whole earth doesn’t change. Typically, precipitation falls on earth, then runs downhill to low areas of rivers, lakes, ponds or ditches. These are considered surface water and some will keep water moving along (like rivers) while others will keep it in the same location for awhile (like ponds). But some water seeps into the ground and is stored as groundwater or in an aquifer (an area of water-saturated rock). A groundwater system or aquifer can be deep or shallow, small in size or incredibly large and widespread, a confined system or interconnected to other groundwater systems. If people live in a city or residential area, they most likely are drinking treated water from a river, a lake or an aquifer. If they live in the country and have their own water well, they are probably drinking groundwater or from an aquifer, which usually don’t need to be treated.

There are even people and communities that have rainwater catchments to catch rainwater and store it in large tanks for household or agricultural use. Any water, whether it is surface water or groundwater, is susceptible to accidents, large and small. There are stories about the large accidents and the millions of dollars in clean-up costs, like the previously mentioned cases. But what about old junkyards or “back 40s” with old vehicles dripping battery acid and oil into the ground? Or the winter-needed road salt and chemicals that run into the ditches and then down into the groundwater or rivers? Or the hundreds of homes and cabins along lakes and rivers that leak untreated waste from failing septic tanks? Or the thousands of people who apply fertilizers on their gardens, yards and fields with some of that fertilizer being washed away by the rain? Any one of these instances may not be dangerous because the earth and the hydrologic cycle have built in “filters.” Contaminants are filtered out when water seeps through the sand and rocks, and when bacteria and plants and marine life (like microbes, mussels, clams, oysters, and some fish, etc.) “clean” the water.

But too much contaminants at one time WILL have a negative impact on the quality of surface and/or groundwater for awhile in that area, and possibly for miles around! WHAT WE CAN DO The key to protecting our water quality lies in not only learning where water comes from, but also how to conserve and protect our clean water, as well as our forests, grasslands and wetlands which are nature’s water filters. “Carlton County is a headwaters county,” said Kelly Smith, Carlton SWCD. “We are at the top of the watersheds. This gives us a great deal of control over the quality of water in our county. In many Minnesota counties, lakes aren’t safe to swim in and wells aren’t safe to drink from. Our area is especially blessed with clean water and most of our waters are in very good condition. Protecting that good quality is important for our health, environment and economy.” If everyone does his or her part, we can keep it that way for everyone and everything. Here are some things you can do to protect the local water supply: Never flush unwanted or out-of-date medicines down the toilets or drain. (Contact your local hazardous waste sites to find out where to dispose of them.

Both the Cloquet Police Department and the Carlton County Sheriff’s Office have disposal boxes.) Don’t put the following items down the household drains or storm drains on purpose or by accident: paints, oil, detergents, fertilizers, pesticides, hazardous products, etc. Fix that car drip and/or put down a liner to collect and dispose of the chemicals safely. Avoid using pesticides and chemical fertilizers whenever possible. Recycle batteries, paint, oil, plastics and tires, etc., to keep them from polluting. Use non-toxic household products when possible, including cleaning products and toiletries. Pick up pet waste and dispose of correctly. Don’t throw litter onto the ground or into water bodies. In fact, clean up any “safe” litter and dispose of it properly. (But don’t clean up unsafe or questionable materials! Call your city or county to do so.) Get involved in local clean up projects for roadsides, rivers, etc. If there are no local clean up projects, start one and get your community involved! Don’t pave your driveway. Allowing water to soak into the ground can prevent flooding, dilute and filter contaminants, and recharge groundwater. Don’t leave large, bare-land areas.

Heavy rainwater will wash off bare land, carrying pollutants to ditches and rivers. Instead, put in plants to catch and slow water so it can be filtered through the ground. Don’t use antibacterial soaps and cleaning products. Many of these contain trichlosan, a registered pesticide that harms aquatic life and can lead to “superbugs” that are antibiotic resistant. Regular soap and water kills germs just as effectively. Spread the word to your family, neighbors and friends and get them involved in conserving and protecting our water resources. Encourage your local, state and federal government and agencies to support policies that conserve water and stop pollution. And one more important thing: make sure that future generations learn about water, too. Teach your kids, grandkids, and others where water comes from, how it cycles through nature, how “accidents” impact our water, and what everyone can do to protect water quality. *************************** ************************** TO LEARN MORE ABOUT WATER Come and learn about water, the natural water system, watersheds, and how nature works together at the upcoming Water Fest from noon to 4 p.m. Saturday, March 12, at South Terrace Elementary, 405 School Ave., Carlton.

Organizations and businesses with bring information, displays and presentations about a wide variety of water and natural resource subjects. Children will enjoy the nature games and activities as well as the special treats. Everyone can see the SWCD Water Table in action and help “create” a stream and watershed. And you can sign up for one of the several door prizes for adults and children. It’s a free, family-oriented, and fun event … a great way to spend a day during the “cabin fever” time of winter! The Rime of the Ancient Mariner (text of 1834) by Samuel Taylor Coleridge | Poetry Foundation The Rime of the Ancient Mariner (text of 1834) by Samuel Taylor Coleridge The Rime of the Ancient Mariner (text of 1834) Related Poem Content Details By Samuel Taylor Coleridge Argument How a Ship having passed the Line was driven by storms to the cold Country towards the South Pole; and how from thence she made her course to the tropical Latitude of the Great Pacific Ocean; and of the strange things that befell; and in what manner the Ancyent Marinere came back to his own Country.

PART I It is an ancient Mariner, And he stoppeth one of three. 'By thy long grey beard and glittering eye, Now wherefore stopp'st thou me? The Bridegroom's doors are opened wide, And I am next of kin; The guests are met, the feast is set: May'st hear the merry din.' He holds him with his skinny hand, 'There was a ship,' quoth he. 'Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!' Eftsoons his hand dropt he. He holds him with his glittering eye— The Wedding-Guest stood still, And listens like a three years' child: The Mariner hath his will. The Wedding-Guest sat on a stone: He cannot choose but hear; And thus spake on that ancient man, The bright-eyed Mariner. 'The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared, Merrily did we drop Below the kirk, below the hill, Below the lighthouse top. The Sun came up upon the left, Out of the sea came he! And he shone bright, and on the right Went down into the sea.

Higher and higher every day, Till over the mast at noon—' The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast, For he heard the loud bassoon. The bride hath paced into the hall, Red as a rose is she; Nodding their heads before her goes The merry minstrelsy. The Wedding-Guest he beat his breast, Yet he cannot choose but hear; And thus spake on that ancient man, The bright-eyed Mariner. And now the STORM-BLAST came, and he Was tyrannous and strong: He struck with his o'ertaking wings, And chased us south along. With sloping masts and dipping prow, As who pursued with yell and blow Still treads the shadow of his foe, And forward bends his head, The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast, And southward aye we fled. And now there came both mist and snow, And it grew wondrous cold: And ice, mast-high, came floating by, As green as emerald. And through the drifts the snowy clifts Did send a dismal sheen: Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken— The ice was all between.

The ice was here, the ice was there, The ice was all around: It cracked and growled, and roared and howled, Like noises in a swound! At length did cross an Albatross, Thorough the fog it came; As if it had been a Christian soul, We hailed it in God's name. It ate the food it ne'er had eat, And round and round it flew. The ice did split with a thunder-fit; The helmsman steered us through! And a good south wind sprung up behind; The Albatross did follow, And every day, for food or play, Came to the mariner's hollo! In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud, It perched for vespers nine; Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white, Glimmered the white Moon-shine.' 'God save thee, ancient Mariner! From the fiends, that plague thee thus!— Why look'st thou so?'—With my cross-bow I shot the ALBATROSS. The Sun now rose upon the right: Out of the sea came he, Still hid in mist, and on the left Went down into the sea.

And the good south wind still blew behind, But no sweet bird did follow, Nor any day for food or play Came to the mariner's hollo! And I had done a hellish thing, And it would work 'em woe: For all averred, I had killed the bird That made the breeze to blow. Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay, That made the breeze to blow! Nor dim nor red, like God's own head, The glorious Sun uprist: Then all averred, I had killed the bird That brought the fog and mist. 'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay, That bring the fog and mist. The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew, The furrow followed free; We were the first that ever burst Into that silent sea. Down dropt the breeze, the sails dropt down, 'Twas sad as sad could be; And we did speak only to break The silence of the sea! All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody Sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the Moon.

Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean. And all the boards did shrink; Water, water, every where, Nor any drop to drink. The very deep did rot: O Christ! That ever this should be! Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs Upon the slimy sea. About, about, in reel and rout The death-fires danced at night; The water, like a witch's oils, Burnt green, and blue and white. And some in dreams assurèd were Of the Spirit that plagued us so; Nine fathom deep he had followed us From the land of mist and snow. And every tongue, through utter drought, Was withered at the root; We could not speak, no more than if We had been choked with soot. Ah! well a-day! what evil looks Had I from old and young! Instead of the cross, the Albatross About my neck was hung. PART III There passed a weary time. Each throat Was parched, and glazed each eye. A weary time! a weary time! How glazed each weary eye, When looking westward, I beheld A something in the sky.

At first it seemed a little speck, And then it seemed a mist; It moved and moved, and took at last A certain shape, I wist. A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist! And still it neared and neared: As if it dodged a water-sprite, It plunged and tacked and veered. With throats unslaked, with black lips baked, We could nor laugh nor wail; Through utter drought all dumb we stood! I bit my arm, I sucked the blood, And cried, A sail! a sail! With throats unslaked, with black lips baked, Agape they heard me call: Gramercy! they for joy did grin, And all at once their breath drew in. As they were drinking all. See! see! (I cried) she tacks no more! Hither to work us weal; Without a breeze, without a tide, She steadies with upright keel! The western wave was all a-flame. The day was well nigh done! Almost upon the western wave Rested the broad bright Sun; When that strange shape drove suddenly Betwixt us and the Sun.

And straight the Sun was flecked with bars, (Heaven's Mother send us grace!) As if through a dungeon-grate he peered With broad and burning face. Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud) How fast she nears and nears! Are those her sails that glance in the Sun, Like restless gossameres? Are those her ribs through which the Sun Did peer, as through a grate? And is that Woman all her crew? Is that a DEATH? and are there two? Is DEATH that woman's mate? Her lips were red, her looks were free, Her locks were yellow as gold: Her skin was as white as leprosy, The Night-mare LIFE-IN-DEATH was she, Who thicks man's blood with cold. The naked hulk alongside came, And the twain were casting dice; 'The game is done! I've won! I've won!' Quoth she, and whistles thrice. The Sun's rim dips; the stars rush out; At one stride comes the dark; With far-heard whisper, o'er the sea, Off shot the spectre-bark. We listened and looked sideways up!

Fear at my heart, as at a cup, My life-blood seemed to sip! The stars were dim, and thick the night, The steersman's face by his lamp gleamed white; From the sails the dew did drip— Till clomb above the eastern bar The hornèd Moon, with one bright star Within the nether tip. One after one, by the star-dogged Moon, Too quick for groan or sigh, Each turned his face with a ghastly pang, And cursed me with his eye. Four times fifty living men, (And I heard nor sigh nor groan) With heavy thump, a lifeless lump, They dropped down one by one. The souls did from their bodies fly,— They fled to bliss or woe! And every soul, it passed me by, Like the whizz of my cross-bow! PART IV 'I fear thee, ancient Mariner! I fear thy skinny hand! And thou art long, and lank, and brown, As is the ribbed sea-sand. I fear thee and thy glittering eye, And thy skinny hand, so brown.'— Fear not, fear not, thou Wedding-Guest! This body dropt not down.

Alone, alone, all, all alone, Alone on a wide wide sea! And never a saint took pity on My soul in agony. The many men, so beautiful! And they all dead did lie: And a thousand thousand slimy things Lived on; and so did I. I looked upon the rotting sea, And drew my eyes away; I looked upon the rotting deck, And there the dead men lay. I looked to heaven, and tried to pray; But or ever a prayer had gusht, A wicked whisper came, and made My heart as dry as dust. I closed my lids, and kept them close, And the balls like pulses beat; For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky Lay dead like a load on my weary eye, And the dead were at my feet. The cold sweat melted from their limbs, Nor rot nor reek did they: The look with which they looked on me Had never passed away. An orphan's curse would drag to hell A spirit from on high; But oh! more horrible than that Is the curse in a dead man's eye! Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse, And yet I could not die.

The moving Moon went up the sky, And no where did abide: Softly she was going up, And a star or two beside— Her beams bemocked the sultry main, Like April hoar-frost spread; But where the ship's huge shadow lay, The charmèd water burnt alway A still and awful red. Beyond the shadow of the ship, I watched the water-snakes: They moved in tracks of shining white, And when they reared, the elfish light Fell off in hoary flakes. Within the shadow of the ship I watched their rich attire: Blue, glossy green, and velvet black, They coiled and swam; and every track Was a flash of golden fire. O happy living things! no tongue Their beauty might declare: A spring of love gushed from my heart, And I blessed them unaware: Sure my kind saint took pity on me, And I blessed them unaware. The self-same moment I could pray; And from my neck so free The Albatross fell off, and sank Like lead into the sea. PART V Oh sleep! it is a gentle thing, Beloved from pole to pole! To Mary Queen the praise be given!

She sent the gentle sleep from Heaven, That slid into my soul. The silly buckets on the deck, That had so long remained, I dreamt that they were filled with dew; And when I awoke, it rained. My lips were wet, my throat was cold, My garments all were dank; Sure I had drunken in my dreams, And still my body drank. I moved, and could not feel my limbs: I was so light—almost I thought that I had died in sleep, And was a blessed ghost. And soon I heard a roaring wind: It did not come anear; But with its sound it shook the sails, That were so thin and sere. The upper air burst into life! And a hundred fire-flags sheen, To and fro they were hurried about! And to and fro, and in and out, The wan stars danced between. And the coming wind did roar more loud, And the sails did sigh like sedge, And the rain poured down from one black cloud; The Moon was at its edge. The thick black cloud was cleft, and still The Moon was at its side: Like waters shot from some high crag, The lightning fell with never a jag, A river steep and wide.

The loud wind never reached the ship, Yet now the ship moved on! Beneath the lightning and the Moon The dead men gave a groan. They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose, Nor spake, nor moved their eyes; It had been strange, even in a dream, To have seen those dead men rise. The helmsman steered, the ship moved on; Yet never a breeze up-blew; The mariners all 'gan work the ropes, Where they were wont to do; They raised their limbs like lifeless tools— We were a ghastly crew. The body of my brother's son Stood by me, knee to knee: The body and I pulled at one rope, But he said nought to me. 'I fear thee, ancient Mariner!' Be calm, thou Wedding-Guest! 'Twas not those souls that fled in pain, Which to their corses came again, But a troop of spirits blest: For when it dawned—they dropped their arms, And clustered round the mast; Sweet sounds rose slowly through their mouths, And from their bodies passed.

Around, around, flew each sweet sound, Then darted to the Sun; Slowly the sounds came back again, Now mixed, now one by one. Sometimes a-dropping from the sky I heard the sky-lark sing; Sometimes all little birds that are, How they seemed to fill the sea and air With their sweet jargoning! And now 'twas like all instruments, Now like a lonely flute; And now it is an angel's song, That makes the heavens be mute. It ceased; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune. Till noon we quietly sailed on, Yet never a breeze did breathe: Slowly and smoothly went the ship, Moved onward from beneath. Under the keel nine fathom deep, From the land of mist and snow, The spirit slid: and it was he That made the ship to go. The sails at noon left off their tune, And the ship stood still also.

The Sun, right up above the mast, Had fixed her to the ocean: But in a minute she 'gan stir, With a short uneasy motion— Backwards and forwards half her length With a short uneasy motion. Then like a pawing horse let go, She made a sudden bound: It flung the blood into my head, And I fell down in a swound. How long in that same fit I lay, I have not to declare; But ere my living life returned, I heard and in my soul discerned Two voices in the air. 'Is it he?' quoth one, 'Is this the man? By him who died on cross, With his cruel bow he laid full low The harmless Albatross. The spirit who bideth by himself In the land of mist and snow, He loved the bird that loved the man Who shot him with his bow.' The other was a softer voice, As soft as honey-dew: Quoth he, 'The man hath penance done, And penance more will do.' PART VI 'But tell me, tell me! speak again, Thy soft response renewing— What makes that ship drive on so fast?

What is the ocean doing?' Second Voice Still as a slave before his lord, The ocean hath no blast; His great bright eye most silently Up to the Moon is cast— If he may know which way to go; For she guides him smooth or grim. See, brother, see! how graciously She looketh down on him.' First Voice 'But why drives on that ship so fast, Without or wave or wind?' Second Voice 'The air is cut away before, And closes from behind. Fly, brother, fly! more high, more high! Or we shall be belated: For slow and slow that ship will go, When the Mariner's trance is abated.' I woke, and we were sailing on As in a gentle weather: 'Twas night, calm night, the moon was high; The dead men stood together. All stood together on the deck, For a charnel-dungeon fitter: All fixed on me their stony eyes, That in the Moon did glitter. The pang, the curse, with which they died, Had never passed away: I could not draw my eyes from theirs, Nor turn them up to pray.

And now this spell was snapt: once more I viewed the ocean green, And looked far forth, yet little saw Of what had else been seen— Like one, that on a lonesome road Doth walk in fear and dread, And having once turned round walks on, And turns no more his head; Because he knows, a frightful fiend Doth close behind him tread. But soon there breathed a wind on me, Nor sound nor motion made: Its path was not upon the sea, In ripple or in shade. It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek Like a meadow-gale of spring— It mingled strangely with my fears, Yet it felt like a welcoming. Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, Yet she sailed softly too: Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze— On me alone it blew. Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed The light-house top I see? Is this the hill? is this the kirk? Is this mine own countree? We drifted o'er the harbour-bar, And I with sobs did pray— O let me be awake, my God! Or let me sleep alway. The harbour-bay was clear as glass, So smoothly it was strewn!

And on the bay the moonlight lay, And the shadow of the Moon. The rock shone bright, the kirk no less, That stands above the rock: The moonlight steeped in silentness The steady weathercock. And the bay was white with silent light, Till rising from the same, Full many shapes, that shadows were, In crimson colours came. A little distance from the prow Those crimson shadows were: I turned my eyes upon the deck— Oh, Christ! what saw I there! Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat, And, by the holy rood! A man all light, a seraph-man, On every corse there stood. This seraph-band, each waved his hand: It was a heavenly sight! They stood as signals to the land, Each one a lovely light; This seraph-band, each waved his hand, No voice did they impart— No voice; but oh! the silence sank Like music on my heart. But soon I heard the dash of oars, I heard the Pilot's cheer; My head was turned perforce away And I saw a boat appear. The Pilot and the Pilot's boy, I heard them coming fast: Dear Lord in Heaven!

it was a joy The dead men could not blast. I saw a third—I heard his voice: It is the Hermit good! He singeth loud his godly hymns That he makes in the wood. He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away The Albatross's blood. This Hermit good lives in that wood Which slopes down to the sea. How loudly his sweet voice he rears! He loves to talk with marineres That come from a far countree. He kneels at morn, and noon, and eve— He hath a cushion plump: It is the moss that wholly hides The rotted old oak-stump. The skiff-boat neared: I heard them talk, 'Why, this is strange, I trow! Where are those lights so many and fair, That signal made but now?' 'Strange, by my faith!' the Hermit said— 'And they answered not our cheer! The planks looked warped! and see those sails, How thin they are and sere!

I never saw aught like to them, Unless perchance it were Brown skeletons of leaves that lag My forest-brook along; When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow, And the owlet whoops to the wolf below, That eats the she-wolf's young.' 'Dear Lord! it hath a fiendish look— (The Pilot made reply) I am a-feared'—'Push on, push on!' Said the Hermit cheerily. The boat came closer to the ship, But I nor spake nor stirred; The boat came close beneath the ship, And straight a sound was heard. Under the water it rumbled on, Still louder and more dread: It reached the ship, it split the bay; The ship went down like lead. Stunned by that loud and dreadful sound, Which sky and ocean smote, Like one that hath been seven days drowned My body lay afloat; But swift as dreams, myself I found Within the Pilot's boat. Upon the whirl, where sank the ship, The boat spun round and round; And all was still, save that the hill Was telling of the sound.

I moved my lips—the Pilot shrieked And fell down in a fit; The holy Hermit raised his eyes, And prayed where he did sit. I took the oars: the Pilot's boy, Who now doth crazy go, Laughed loud and long, and all the while His eyes went to and fro. 'Ha! ha!' quoth he, 'full plain I see, The Devil knows how to row.' And now, all in my own countree, I stood on the firm land! The Hermit stepped forth from the boat, And scarcely he could stand. 'O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!' The Hermit crossed his brow. 'Say quick,' quoth he, 'I bid thee say— What manner of man art thou?' Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched With a woful agony, Which forced me to begin my tale; And then it left me free. Since then, at an uncertain hour, That agony returns: And till my ghastly tale is told, This heart within me burns.

I pass, like night, from land to land; I have strange power of speech; That moment that his face I see, I know the man that must hear me: To him my tale I teach. What loud uproar bursts from that door! The wedding-guests are there: But in the garden-bower the bride And bride-maids singing are: And hark the little vesper bell, Which biddeth me to prayer! O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been Alone on a wide wide sea: So lonely 'twas, that God himself Scarce seemèd there to be. O sweeter than the marriage-feast, 'Tis sweeter far to me, To walk together to the kirk With a goodly company!— To walk together to the kirk, And all together pray, While each to his great Father bends, Old men, and babes, and loving friends And youths and maidens gay! Farewell, farewell! but this I tell To thee, thou Wedding-Guest! He prayeth well, who loveth well Both man and bird and beast.

He prayeth best, who loveth best All things both great and small; For the dear God who loveth us, He made and loveth all. The Mariner, whose eye is bright, Whose beard with age is hoar, Is gone: and now the Wedding-Guest Turned from the bridegroom's door. He went like one that hath been stunned, And is of sense forlorn: A sadder and a wiser man, He rose the morrow morn. Quotes - Water, water, every where, Nor any drop to drink. Quotes "Water, water, every where, Nor any drop to drink." Water, water, everywhere, And all the boards did shrink; Water, water, everywhere, Part I of " The Rime of the Ancient Mariner " finishes with that good-for-nothin' mariner killing the albatross. Ugh. Part II begins with the sailors being angry because their good luck charm is gone. But when the mist and fog depart, they change their minds and are glad it's dead...because it must have been bad luck. Wrong again, sailors. Soon their friendly breeze dies completely, and they're stranded in the motionless ocean.

That's when they change back to their original position that the albatross, surely, was good luck, flip-flopping like a fish out of water...or a politician. This is when our quote comes in, as they're lying stagnant without a fair wind to stretch their sails. Bummer, dudes. But what is the quote itself about? Well, to start, the whole thing is dripping with irony . The sailors are dehydrated and might start dying of thirst if they don't find something to drink. In fact, even the boards of the ship are beginning to shrink from lack of water. But why can't they get water? Because they're stranded in a boatload of water. How's that for rain on your wedding day? Of course, it's also a very important point in the poem where everything starts to go downhill…or up current. We never really get to know what that mariner was thinking, but pretty soon he'll have a lot more to worry about than being parched. Batten down the hatches, boys. Stormy seas lie ahead. Where you've heard it This quote is some seriously low-hanging fruit for just about anyone looking for a title about water. Creating a precipitation education page?

A National Geographic issue about oceanography? A World of Warcraft quest where you…water crops? Look no further than "The Rime of the Ancient Mariner." Pretentious Factor If you were to drop this quote at a dinner party, would you get an in-unison "awww" or would everyone roll their eyes and never invite you back? Here it is, on a scale of 1-10. We admit this quotation is a bit situational—like, um, when you're stranded on a ship in the ocean without any fresh water. Yeah, we can't really think of anything else. But hey, that doesn't mean it's pretentious. Oh, we got one. Maybe the next time you have a sudden burst of thirst when you're stranded on the john you can bust this one out… to yourself, hopefully.

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge The Rime of the Ancient Mariner Argument: How a Ship having passed the Line was driven by storms to the cold Country towards the South Pole; and how from thence she made her course to the tropical Latitude of the Great Pacific Ocean; and of the strange things that befell; and in what manner the Ancyent Marinere came back to his own Country. Part I It is an ancient Mariner, And he stoppeth one of three. `By thy long grey beard and glittering eye, Now wherefore stopp'st thou me? The bridegroom's doors are opened wide, And I am next of kin; The guests are met, the feast is set: Mayst hear the merry din.' He holds him with his skinny hand, "There was a ship," quoth he. `Hold off! unhand me, grey-beard loon!' Eftsoons his hand dropped he. He holds him with his glittering eye - The Wedding-Guest stood still, And listens like a three years' child: The Mariner hath his will.

The Wedding-Guest sat on a stone: He cannot choose but hear; And thus spake on that ancient man, The bright-eyed Mariner. "The ship was cheered, the harbour cleared, Merrily did we drop Below the kirk, below the hill, Below the lighthouse top. The sun came up upon the left, Out of the sea came he! And he shone bright, and on the right Went down into the sea. Higher and higher every day, Till over the mast at noon -" The Wedding-Guest here beat his breast, For he heard the loud bassoon. The bride hath paced into the hall, Red as a rose is she; Nodding their heads before her goes The merry minstrelsy. The Wedding-Guest he beat his breast, Yet he cannot choose but hear; And thus spake on that ancient man, The bright-eyed Mariner. "And now the storm-blast came, and he Was tyrannous and strong: He struck with his o'ertaking wings, And chased us south along.

With sloping masts and dipping prow, As who pursued with yell and blow Still treads the shadow of his foe, And foward bends his head, The ship drove fast, loud roared the blast, And southward aye we fled. And now there came both mist and snow, And it grew wondrous cold: And ice, mast-high, came floating by, As green as emerald. And through the drifts the snowy clifts Did send a dismal sheen: Nor shapes of men nor beasts we ken - The ice was all between. The ice was here, the ice was there, The ice was all around: It cracked and growled, and roared and howled, Like noises in a swound! At length did cross an Albatross, Thorough the fog it came; As it had been a Christian soul, We hailed it in God's name. It ate the food it ne'er had eat, And round and round it flew. The ice did split with a thunder-fit; The helmsman steered us through! And a good south wind sprung up behind; The Albatross did follow, And every day, for food or play, Came to the mariner's hollo!

In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud, It perched for vespers nine; Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white, Glimmered the white moonshine." `God save thee, ancient Mariner, From the fiends that plague thee thus! - Why look'st thou so?' -"With my crossbow I shot the Albatross." "The sun now rose upon the right: Out of the sea came he, Still hid in mist, and on the left Went down into the sea. And the good south wind still blew behind, But no sweet bird did follow, Nor any day for food or play Came to the mariners' hollo! And I had done a hellish thing, And it would work 'em woe: For all averred, I had killed the bird That made the breeze to blow. Ah wretch! said they, the bird to slay, That made the breeze to blow! Nor dim nor red, like God's own head, The glorious sun uprist: Then all averred, I had killed the bird That brought the fog and mist. 'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay, That bring the fog and mist.

The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew, The furrow followed free; We were the first that ever burst Into that silent sea. Down dropped the breeze, the sails dropped down, 'Twas sad as sad could be; And we did speak only to break The silence of the sea! All in a hot and copper sky, The bloody sun, at noon, Right up above the mast did stand, No bigger than the moon. Day after day, day after day, We stuck, nor breath nor motion; As idle as a painted ship Upon a painted ocean. And all the boards did shrink; Water, water, every where, Nor any drop to drink. The very deep did rot: O Christ! That ever this should be! Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs Upon the slimy sea. About, about, in reel and rout The death-fires danced at night; The water, like a witch's oils, Burnt green, and blue, and white. And some in dreams assured were Of the Spirit that plagued us so; Nine fathom deep he had followed us From the land of mist and snow.

And every tongue, through utter drought, Was withered at the root; We could not speak, no more than if We had been choked with soot. Ah! well-a-day! what evil looks Had I from old and young! Instead of the cross, the Albatross About my neck was hung." Part III "There passed a weary time. Each throat Was parched, and glazed each eye. A weary time! a weary time! How glazed each weary eye - When looking westward, I beheld A something in the sky. At first it seemed a little speck, And then it seemed a mist; It moved and moved, and took at last A certain shape, I wist. A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist! And still it neared and neared: As if it dodged a water-sprite, It plunged and tacked and veered. With throats unslaked, with black lips baked, We could nor laugh nor wail; Through utter drought all dumb we stood! I bit my arm, I sucked the blood, And cried, A sail! a sail! With throats unslaked, with black lips baked, Agape they heard me call: Gramercy!

they for joy did grin, And all at once their breath drew in, As they were drinking all. See! see! (I cried) she tacks no more! Hither to work us weal; Without a breeze, without a tide, She steadies with upright keel! The western wave was all a-flame, The day was well nigh done! Almost upon the western wave Rested the broad bright sun; When that strange shape drove suddenly Betwixt us and the sun. And straight the sun was flecked with bars, (Heaven's Mother send us grace!) As if through a dungeon-grate he peered With broad and burning face. Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud) How fast she nears and nears! Are those her sails that glance in the sun, Like restless gossameres? Are those her ribs through which the sun Did peer, as through a grate? And is that Woman all her crew? Is that a Death? and are there two? Is Death that Woman's mate?

Her lips were red, her looks were free, Her locks were yellow as gold: Her skin was as white as leprosy, The Nightmare Life-in-Death was she, Who thicks man's blood with cold. The naked hulk alongside came, And the twain were casting dice; `The game is done! I've won! I've won!' Quoth she, and whistles thrice. The sun's rim dips; the stars rush out: At one stride comes the dark; With far-heard whisper o'er the sea, Off shot the spectre-bark. We listened and looked sideways up! Fear at my heart, as at a cup, My life-blood seemed to sip! The stars were dim, and thick the night, The steersman's face by his lamp gleamed white; From the sails the dew did drip - Till clomb above the eastern bar The horned moon, with one bright star Within the nether tip. One after one, by the star-dogged moon, Too quick for groan or sigh, Each turned his face with a ghastly pang, And cursed me with his eye.

Four times fifty living men, (And I heard nor sigh nor groan) With heavy thump, a lifeless lump, They dropped down one by one. The souls did from their bodies fly, - They fled to bliss or woe! And every soul it passed me by, Like the whizz of my crossbow!" Part IV `I fear thee, ancient Mariner! I fear thy skinny hand! And thou art long, and lank, and brown, As is the ribbed sea-sand. I fear thee and thy glittering eye, And thy skinny hand, so brown.' - "Fear not, fear not, thou Wedding-Guest! This body dropped not down. Alone, alone, all, all alone, Alone on a wide wide sea! And never a saint took pity on My soul in agony. The many men, so beautiful! And they all dead did lie; And a thousand thousand slimy things Lived on; and so did I. I looked upon the rotting sea, And drew my eyes away; I looked upon the rotting deck, And there the dead men lay.

I looked to heaven, and tried to pray; But or ever a prayer had gusht, A wicked whisper came and made My heart as dry as dust. I closed my lids, and kept them close, And the balls like pulses beat; Forthe sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky, Lay like a load on my weary eye, And the dead were at my feet. The cold sweat melted from their limbs, Nor rot nor reek did they: The look with which they looked on me Had never passed away. An orphan's curse would drag to hell A spirit from on high; But oh! more horrible than that Is the curse in a dead man's eye! Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse, And yet I could not die. The moving moon went up the sky, And no where did abide: Softly she was going up, And a star or two beside - Her beams bemocked the sultry main, Like April hoar-frost spread; But where the ship's huge shadow lay, The charmed water burnt alway A still and awful red.

Beyond the shadow of the ship I watched the water-snakes: They moved in tracks of shining white, And when they reared, the elfish light Fell off in hoary flakes. Within the shadow of the ship I watched their rich attire: Blue, glossy green, and velvet black, They coiled and swam; and every track Was a flash of golden fire. O happy living things! no tongue Their beauty might declare: A spring of love gushed from my heart, And I blessed them unaware: Sure my kind saint took pity on me, And I blessed them unaware. The selfsame moment I could pray; And from my neck so free The Albatross fell off, and sank Like lead into the sea." Part V "Oh sleep! it is a gentle thing, Beloved from pole to pole! To Mary Queen the praise be given! She sent the gentle sleep from heaven, That slid into my soul. The silly buckets on the deck, That had so long remained, I dreamt that they were filled with dew; And when I awoke, it rained. My lips were wet, my throat was cold, My garments all were dank; Sure I had drunken in my dreams, And still my body drank.

I moved, and could not feel my limbs: I was so light -almost I thought that I had died in sleep, And was a blessed ghost. And soon I heard a roaring wind: It did not come anear; But with its sound it shook the sails, That were so thin and sere. The upper air burst into life! And a hundred fire-flags sheen, To and fro they were hurried about! And to and fro, and in and out, The wan stars danced between. And the coming wind did roar more loud, And the sails did sigh like sedge; And the rain poured down from one black cloud; The moon was at its edge. The thick black cloud was cleft, and still The moon was at its side: Like waters shot from some high crag, The lightning fell with never a jag, A river steep and wide. The loud wind never reached the ship, Yet now the ship moved on! Beneath the lightning and the moon The dead men gave a groan. They groaned, they stirred, they all uprose, Nor spake, nor moved their eyes; It had been strange, even in a dream, To have seen those dead men rise.

The helmsman steered, the ship moved on; Yet never a breeze up blew; The mariners all 'gan work the ropes, Where they were wont to do; They raised their limbs like lifeless tools - We were a ghastly crew. The body of my brother's son Stood by me, knee to knee: The body and I pulled at one rope, But he said nought to me." `I fear thee, ancient Mariner!' "Be calm, thou Wedding-Guest! 'Twas not those souls that fled in pain, Which to their corses came again, But a troop of spirits blest: For when it dawned -they dropped their arms, And clustered round the mast; Sweet sounds rose slowly through their mouths, And from their bodies passed. Around, around, flew each sweet sound, Then darted to the sun; Slowly the sounds came back again, Now mixed, now one by one. Sometimes a-dropping from the sky I heard the skylark sing; Sometimes all little birds that are, How they seemed to fill the sea and air With their sweet jargoning!

And now 'twas like all instruments, Now like a lonely flute; And now it is an angel's song, That makes the heavens be mute. It ceased; yet still the sails made on A pleasant noise till noon, A noise like of a hidden brook In the leafy month of June, That to the sleeping woods all night Singeth a quiet tune. Till noon we quietly sailed on, Yet never a breeze did breathe; Slowly and smoothly went the ship, Moved onward from beneath. Under the keel nine fathom deep, From the land of mist and snow, The spirit slid: and it was he That made the ship to go. The sails at noon left off their tune, And the ship stood still also. The sun, right up above the mast, Had fixed her to the ocean: But in a minute she 'gan stir, With a short uneasy motion - Backwards and forwards half her length With a short uneasy motion. Then like a pawing horse let go, She made a sudden bound: It flung the blood into my head, And I fell down in a swound.

How long in that same fit I lay, I have not to declare; But ere my living life returned, I heard and in my soul discerned Two voices in the air. `Is it he?' quoth one, `Is this the man? By him who died on cross, With his cruel bow he laid full low The harmless Albatross. The spirit who bideth by himself In the land of mist and snow, He loved the bird that loved the man Who shot him with his bow.' The other was a softer voice, As soft as honey-dew: Quoth he, `The man hath penance done, And penance more will do.' Part VI But tell me, tell me! speak again, Thy soft response renewing - What makes that ship drive on so fast? What is the ocean doing? Second Voice Still as a slave before his lord, The ocean hath no blast; His great bright eye most silently Up to the moon is cast - If he may know which way to go; For she guides him smooth or grim. See, brother, see! how graciously She looketh down on him. First Voice But why drives on that ship so fast, Without or wave or wind?

Second Voice The air is cut away before, And closes from behind. Fly, brother, fly! more high, more high! Or we shall be belated: For slow and slow that ship will go, When the Mariner's trance is abated. "I woke, and we were sailing on As in a gentle weather: 'Twas night, calm night, the moon was high; The dead men stood together. All stood together on the deck, For a charnel-dungeon fitter: All fixed on me their stony eyes, That in the moon did glitter. The pang, the curse, with which they died, Had never passed away: I could not draw my eyes from theirs, Nor turn them up to pray. And now this spell was snapped: once more I viewed the ocean green, And looked far forth, yet little saw Of what had else been seen - Like one that on a lonesome road Doth walk in fear and dread, And having once turned round walks on, And turns no more his head; Because he knows a frightful fiend Doth close behind him tread. But soon there breathed a wind on me, Nor sound nor motion made: Its path was not upon the sea, In ripple or in shade.

It raised my hair, it fanned my cheek Like a meadow-gale of spring - It mingled strangely with my fears, Yet it felt like a welcoming. Swiftly, swiftly flew the ship, Yet she sailed softly too: Sweetly, sweetly blew the breeze - On me alone it blew. Oh! dream of joy! is this indeed The lighthouse top I see? Is this the hill? is this the kirk? Is this mine own country? We drifted o'er the harbour-bar, And I with sobs did pray - O let me be awake, my God! Or let me sleep alway. The harbour-bay was clear as glass, So smoothly it was strewn! And on the bay the moonlight lay, And the shadow of the moon. The rock shone bright, the kirk no less, That stands above the rock: The moonlight steeped in silentness The steady weathercock. And the bay was white with silent light, Till rising from the same, Full many shapes, that shadows were, In crimson colours came. A little distance from the prow Those crimson shadows were: I turned my eyes upon the deck - Oh, Christ! what saw I there!

Each corse lay flat, lifeless and flat, And, by the holy rood! A man all light, a seraph-man, On every corse there stood. This seraph-band, each waved his hand: It was a heavenly sight! They stood as signals to the land, Each one a lovely light; This seraph-band, each waved his hand, No voice did they impart - No voice; but oh! the silence sank Like music on my heart. But soon I heard the dash of oars, I heard the Pilot's cheer; My head was turned perforce away, And I saw a boat appear. The Pilot and the Pilot's boy, I heard them coming fast: Dear Lord in heaven! it was a joy The dead men could not blast. I saw a third -I heard his voice: It is the Hermit good! He singeth loud his godly hymns That he makes in the wood. He'll shrieve my soul, he'll wash away The Albatross's blood." "This Hermit good lives in that wood Which slopes down to the sea. How loudly his sweet voice he rears! He loves to talk with marineers That come from a far country.

He kneels at morn, and noon, and eve - He hath a cushion plump: It is the moss that wholly hides The rotted old oak-stump. The skiff-boat neared: I heard them talk, `Why, this is strange, I trow! Where are those lights so many and fair, That signal made but now?' `Strange, by my faith!' the Hermit said - `And they answered not our cheer! The planks looked warped! and see those sails, How thin they are and sere! I never saw aught like to them, Unless perchance it were Brown skeletons of leaves that lag My forest-brook along; When the ivy-tod is heavy with snow, And the owlet whoops to the wolf below, That eats the she-wolf's young.' `Dear Lord! it hath a fiendish look - (The Pilot made reply) I am afeared' -`Push on, push on!' Said the Hermit cheerily. The boat came closer to the ship, But I nor spake nor stirred; The boat came close beneath the ship, And straight a sound was heard.

Under the water it rumbled on, Still louder and more dread: It reached the ship, it split the bay; The ship went down like lead. Stunned by that loud and dreadful sound, Which sky and ocean smote, Like one that hath been seven days drowned My body lay afloat; But swift as dreams, myself I found Within the Pilot's boat. Upon the whirl where sank the ship The boat spun round and round; And all was still, save that the hill Was telling of the sound. I moved my lips -the Pilot shrieked And fell down in a fit; The holy Hermit raised his eyes, And prayed where he did sit. I took the oars: the Pilot's boy, Who now doth crazy go, Laughed loud and long, and all the while His eyes went to and fro. `Ha! ha!' quoth he, `full plain I see, The Devil knows how to row.' And now, all in my own country, I stood on the firm land! The Hermit stepped forth from the boat, And scarcely he could stand. O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man! The Hermit crossed his brow.

`Say quick,' quoth he `I bid thee say - What manner of man art thou?' Forthwith this frame of mine was wrenched With a woeful agony, Which forced me to begin my tale; And then it left me free. Since then, at an uncertain hour, That agony returns; And till my ghastly tale is told, This heart within me burns. I pass, like night, from land to land; I have strange power of speech; That moment that his face I see, I know the man that must hear me: To him my tale I teach. What loud uproar bursts from that door! The wedding-guests are there: But in the garden-bower the bride And bride-maids singing are; And hark the little vesper bell, Which biddeth me to prayer! O Wedding-Guest! this soul hath been Alone on a wide wide sea: So lonely 'twas, that God himself Scarce seemed there to be. O sweeter than the marriage-feast, 'Tis sweeter far to me, To walk together to the kirk With a goodly company!

- To walk together to the kirk, And all together pray, While each to his great Father bends, Old men, and babes, and loving friends, And youths and maidens gay! Farewell, farewell! but this I tell To thee, thou Wedding-Guest! He prayeth well, who loveth well Both man and bird and beast. He prayeth best, who loveth best All things both great and small; For the dear God who loveth us, He made and loveth all." The Mariner, whose eye is bright, Whose beard with age is hoar, Is gone; and now the Wedding-Guest Turned from the bridegroom's door. He went like one that hath been stunned, And is of sense forlorn: A sadder and a wiser man He rose the morrow morn.

Question: The line ‘Water, water, everywhere, nor any drop to drink’ comes from which poem?
Answer: The Rime of the Ancient Mariner